I could not sleep at all that night.

“What do I do now, what do I do now, what do I do now, what do I do now?”

What was I thinking back then? Why did I even put up that proposal to her when I didn’t even have a camera to begin with? ARGH. This is driving me insane.

As I was busy questioning every action I took last night, a voice came from over the other side of my door.

“Ahan, have you woken up?” asked my mother.

“...”

“Ahan.”

“...”

“Ahan!”

“A-Ah, yes, I am changing right now. Coming in a minute,” I said rushing towards the cupboard.

“Okay, breakfast is ready. Don’t make us wait too long.”

“...”

“Humph! Who even wants breakfast?” I murmured.

.

.

.

“Ahan, why did you skip school yesterday?” asked my father. A man in his forties, sitting on the couch and holding the morning newspaper in his hands. Professionally, he is the headmaster of a government school in the neighbourhood.

“I was not in the mood,” I said.

“What’s your mood have to do with it? Don’t mix up your mood with your chores.”

“Dad, school is not a chore, it's a burden.”

“Burden? That’s why I suggest you take Arts and pursue the path to become a doctorate.”

“It’s not as easy as it looks to you.”

“Then take commerce for example, and pursue to become a Chartered Accountant,” said my mother. A woman in her thirties. She was serving tea to my dad. Professionally, she works for a prominent consulting firm in the region.

“Mom, Dad, let me decide for myself.”

“That’s all the more reason I am concerned about you,” she said.

“Look, I don’t see any problems in being an Arts major. My colleagues are earning handsome money these days as teachers,” he suggested.

“Dad, it’s not all about money. There are more things in life than just cash.”

“Then how do you expect to feed your kids in future? With your cheap talks?”

“Dad!” I screamed.

It has become a recurrent scene in the house. Now that I had been promoted to the tenth class, it was about time we started discussing which major I should take in high school. My mother, obviously being in finance, suggests I go along with that too, but my father believes that I should pursue becoming a teacher. I don’t dislike their suggestions, but I really do not get the urge to do any of them.

“Mom, Dad. Do we have a camera?”

“Where is that coming from?” asked my mother.

“Do we have one?” I asked again.

“But why do you want one now?”

“We have one?”

“Ahan! Answer what I am asking first.”

“Likewise.”

“AHAN! What is this behaviour? What has gotten into you?” my father screamed while clenching his newspaper into a roll in one hand.

“...”

“This disrespectful kid. Can you not answer a single question we ask?” he continued.

I just glanced at my mother for once before I stood up from my chair.

“I am done, heading to my room now. Don’t come to bother me,” I said while walking towards the door.

“...”

I didn’t want to pay any attention to their murmurs, so I climbed right away to my room and lay down on my bed.

“Camera prices in India,” I typed on my phone’s keyboard.

“Thirty thousand!! That too for a base model,” I screamed as I got up and sat on my bed. I might have never seen that amount in my entire life. This is expensive. Take two.

“Used camera prices in India. This is still pretty expensive. Seventeen thousand for a refurbished model. I can buy a smartphone in that.”

Come to think of it, what was the camera she was using? I vaguely remember the brand and the model imprinted on the outer body. It had an attached lens from another Japanese brand. Now let me see…

“2.5 Lakhs?!! And that lens, another 1.5 Lakhs?!!” My hands holding my phone trembled for a moment. A setup of 4 Lakhs in total, and I held that much money in my hand back then. What would have happened had I dropped it accidentally? I must have been immediately put in jail. And what is she, carelessly handing over that expensive equipment to a stranger like that? She must be so careless. Rich kids. The next time we meet, I must smack some sense into her.

“Ah, the camera problem.”

What should I do now? I cannot go empty-handed to her. She must think I am an idiot. ARGH. I just can’t get over this.

I slept for the rest of the morning, wondering how to get hold of a camera.

.

.

.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

“Ahan, you there?”

“Yes, come in.” Wait, didn’t I just ask them not to bother me?

“Your friend is waiting for you downstairs,” said my mom, pointing towards the stairs.

A friend? What time is it? 12:30, huh. Who might it be? Do I even have friends? Wait, is it Chhaya? No, I have not given my address to her.

“I am going,” I said as I climbed downstairs and across the hallway to the door in a hurry. I reached for the doorknob and turned it, opening the door. The bright afternoon sun blinded me for a moment.

“Hey there, Mr. India. Having fun all by yourself at home?”

Even before I could register the face of this person, her voice gave it away.

“Why are you here for? If you don’t have a job, go get one. Stop bothering me. I am not coming,” I tried to close the door, but she stuck her shoe in, obstructing the door.

“Hey now! Is that how you treat a visitor? Look, mister, I came all the way in this chilly wind to your home, and you are closing the door on me? Do I not deserve the least respect and honour as a guest to be invited in and be served a cup of tea with some biscuits? This is a clear violation of my rights. I wish to be redeemed,” she said while holding an overdramatic pose like she had been deprived of her family wealth by her siblings.

That was Ishika, my classmate. Argh! Why does it have to be her today?

“I am not in a very good mood today. So please leave me alone,” I hoped she would walk away.

“Hey now! Do you think I would have ever wanted to come to this peasant realm? Not even in a million years. What prompted me to come here was Tarak sir. He asked me to get you this envelope. Probably a letter of permanent termination from school,” she said while handing me a brown envelope and giving me a faint smirk.

“Okay, thanks a lot for delivering it to me. I am busy this afternoon, so you can go now.”

“Oh, busy doing what? Jerking off to anime girls?” she said while holding her laughter, covering her mouth with her hands.

“You cunt,” I clenched my fist.

“Oh boy, Mr. India. Look at you go all vulgar on a woman. Is that how you react when you first see a woman? You didn’t invite me in, I could let that slide, but to be disrespected publicly by my genitals, this is a violation of my rights as a woman to lead a respectful life,” again, that overdrammatic pose of hers.

“Ahan! Invite her in. Why are you keeping a guest by the door?” said my mom from the kitchen.

“Sorry, aunty, I wish I had all the time to chat with you, but today I was just on an errand. I will have to take my leave. Thanks a lot for having me, aunty.”

“You are leaving already? Come, take a cup of tea. It’s very cold outside today, isn’t it? I would feel awful to part you like this,” said my mom as she walked across the hallway towards us.

“No, no aunty, it’s completely fine. You don’t need to feel that way. I was never an obligation. Besides, it’s almost time for my dance classes. Next time, I will make sure to take some time off my schedule to make up for today,” she said with her hands clasped and an angelic smile on her face.

“Oh dear, take care then.”

“...”

She nodded and went towards the road. Her chauffeur was waiting for her in their car. That car was not the one she used to go to school in. I wondered if she always had that one? No, that was a new one. As the engine ignited and the car drove away, she waved at my mother from the window. She gave me a brief look, smiling with her eyes closed. Absolutely cunning. Just look at the difference in how she treated me and my mother. It was like a deep pit dug all the way to the middle of the earth. She is just a two-faced brat. She has every right to be forever hated by me.

“I am not very happy with your behaviour today, Ahan,” said my mom before returning to the kitchen.

Like I care.